Sleep of the Just
by Arlene
Summary: Everyone's worried about Robin


Disclaimer: DC owns them. Not mine, never will be. No money is being made from this piece of fiction.

Sleep of the Just

By Arlene

"Great job, everyone," Robin praised, knowing that he'd already lost the team's attention at the start of the debriefing. "Meeting adj--" He stopped talking, as he now faced an empty room. "Why do I even bother?" he mumbled. He made his way to his quarters silently, the edge of his long cape barely brushing the floor behind him and making him seem to almost glide. He knew there was a possibility one of them was still watching him, and he felt the need to keep up appearances, despite the way he felt.

When he stepped into his room and heard the door's latch click shut, he relaxed and slumped against the door, fingers clumsily removing the heavy cape and dropping it on the floor. The gloves and mask immediately followed. For a moment, Tim Drake stared stupidly at the opposite wall, trying to remember why he came into the room in the first place. 

Oh yeah. Sleep. Sleep good. Awake bad.

He shuffled to the bed and threw back the blanket. Then he stopped. Shower first? He hadn't cleaned up after the latest mission. Alfred would kill him if he messed up the bed sheets. Okay, shower first, then sleep. He moved in the direction of the bathroom, leaving a trail of the remaining parts of his uniform. Wait. Alfred not here. He was too tired to smack himself for his stupidity. Shower later. Sleep now. Clad only in his boxers and undershirt, he reversed his direction towards his bed, nearly tripping as he stepped over his tangled leggings. He grunted. Sleep now, clean later or Alfred mad. He dove into bed and wrapped himself in his blanket. Instinctively, he grabbed something soft near his head and smiled, feeling content. Night night.

***

"Do you think Robin's all right?" Hours ago, Secret had seen him enter his room, but had yet to see him come out and head back to Gotham like he usually did.

"Sure, he's fine. Prolly working on case files, updating notes or practicing his glare on a mirror." Kon-El continued channel surfing, oblivious to Secret's concern. Where was a rerun of Wendy when you needed one?

"Well, he *did* get hit on the head pretty hard. Do you think he might have a concussion?" She started wringing her smoky hands.

"Would you relax already? If something's wrong, he'd say." As soon as the words left his mouth, he remembered who he was talking about. And then he started worrying too. Nerts, and he was just beginning to enjoy himself.

Secret brightened. "Well, if you're sure then, I guess he's okay. Thanks, Kon!" She misted away from the rec room, oblivious to Kon-El's growing concern. 

Trying to shrug off the feeling of dread, Superboy turned his attention back to the television. He was startled when he felt a weight settle in next to him.

"Hey, Kon." Casually dressed, Cassandra Sandsmark curled her legs up on the couch.

"Hey, Cass. You good?"

She yawned and stretched, trying to position her body in hopes of catching Kon-El's interest. "Better. I just needed a little rest. Wow. Never figured you for a Weather Channel kinda guy." She nodded her chin towards the screen. Sure enough, little yellow suns and fluffy storm clouds drifted across a cartoonish map of the United States.

He was so preoccupied with the state of Robin's wellbeing that his thumb had stopped moving over the remote. "You think he's all right?" he unconsciously echoed Secret's earlier question.

"He? He who?"

"Dontcha mean 'Hee Haw?'" Both teens on the couch jumped at the sudden voice behind them.

"Imp!" "Bart!" the two yelled in irritation at being surprised.

"Bart, would you, like, announce yourself instead of just popping up?" Cassie sulked, pushing herself deeper into the cushions. Drat. Time alone with Kon foiled again.

"Oh. Okay." The bushy-haired boy threw his arms out as if to embrace the room and sucked in a lungful of air. "I'm he-ere!" he sang out, rather pleased with himself. His voiced hadn't cracked. Maybe he should take up singing.

"Yes, you certainly are," Red Tornado remarked drily, stepping into the room. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Um, well. To me, 'cuz I brought myself here. And don't you mean 'To whom?' Oh! And the pleasure's all mine!" Remembering his manners, Bart Allen made a sweeping bow with his still outstretched arms. "Kewl, huh? I saw that in a movie once. So whatchy'all doin'?" He continued swinging his arms because he had nothing else to do. Besides, it was fun.

Kon tossed the remote onto the coffee table. "Nuthin'. Five hundred channels and nuthin' good on." He sighed in frustration. There should be an All-Wendy-All-the-Time Channel.

"Too true," Red Tornado nodded in agreement. "After what happened on 'Dallas', I didn't see the point in watching anymore. I still can't believe all that was a dream. And after Donna Reed replaced the original Miss Ellie . . . " He stopped as the younger people regarded him. He felt the irrational need to clear his mechanical throat. "So, Kon-El, is who all right?" The redirection worked as the attention shifted to Superboy.

He opened his mouth to reply, but instead Secret's voice came out. "Robin."

Bart stared at Kon in amazement. "Too awesome! How'd you do that? Do me! Do me!"

Secret floated into view. "Well, Bart, I think it has something to do with vocal chords, but I . . . " She looked around slightly frightened. "Do I have vocal chords?" she asked in a small voice. 

Not wanting to go into the matter of Secret's physicality, Red Tornado actually did clear his mechanical throat this time. "Why wouldn't Robin be all right?"

Finally, Cass spoke up. "What's wrong with Rob?"

Secret turned to Kon, feeling betrayed. "But you said he's okay!" Hands on her hips, the misty girl seemed to smolder.

Oh oh. Not good. Kon raised his hands in a placating manner. "I didn't say that. I just said that he'd say if something was wrong . . . aw, frag it!" He got up and strode to Robin's quarters, the rest of the gang following him. 

"Did you ever stop to think that Robin might want to be alone? Perhaps he's resting. After all, he's had a long day too." Red Tornado tried to reason with the group, even though he himself began to worry. Knowing how stoic Batman was, he knew that Robin would prefer to suffer in silence than to burden the team. 

They stopped just outside Robin's door, unsure of how to proceed now that they were about to confront the cause of their anxiety. Red Tornado reflected on how Robin's selflessness actually caused more problems. He'd have to talk with the boy. After they made sure that all was well, of course.

"Uh . . . " Kon tried to figure out the next step. "Imp, vibrate through the door." 

Bart shook his head. "He'd get mad." A snarling Robin was not a good thing.

Kon gritted his teeth together, trying to exercise a bit of self-control in not calling the speedster a chicken. He'd probably misinterpret the insult anyway. "Okay, Secret, mist under the door and check on him."

Secret's eyes grew round. "I can't do that! He might be, uh, undressed." She blushed at the very thought at catching him . . . unprepared.

At Secret's refusal, Cassie reached for the door. Everyone stared at her. "What? I've seen him undressed before." Mouths dropped open in amazement. Oh crap. They weren't supposed to know about that. She backed away from the door. "Oh, *that* kind of undressed. I mean, I've seen him out of uniform, everybody has, right? Like, like T-shirt n' jeans, no mask," she babbled in a lame attempt to cover up, "y'know just hangin' out an' all, well, I mean, not really *hanging*, I mean," shut up! shut up! shut up! "like, y'know just . . . ah, y'know." She tried to work her way to the back of the group, hopefully behind Red Tornado, whose large frame would be enough to block her from view. She was sure her face was as red as the robot's armor.

"Uh . . . ookaay." Kon was trying to work out what she had just said and what it might imply, but he could only deal with one emergency at a time. After a few seconds, he finally screwed up his courage and knocked. "Uh, hey, you okay in there?" Breathlessly, they all waited for a response. None came.

Feeling more alarmed now, Kon knocked louder. He knew Robin was a light sleeper. "Hey! Rob?" He took a few steps back and was about to rush the door. He had to get in there. A metal arm blocked his chest before he could begin.

"Allow me." The rest of the metal body stepped forward and simply turned the knob. "It wasn't locked."

The Boy of Steel looked chagrined. "Yeah. I knew that," he mumbled. Carefully, they peeked into the dimmed room. As one, they crept to lump that lay on the bed. There was something odd protruding from the area where Robin's head should be. And it was slightly . . . green?

They all shuddered as they remembered the last unnatural and green thing they had battled. And all started to panic. Had it taken possession of their leader?

Impulse screamed with rage and surged forth to grab the thing that had latched onto one of his best friends. He tore it away to reveal a very wide awake and surprised face resting on a pillow. "What--?"

The green monstrosity was hurled against the wall. "Stop!" Tim scrambled out of bed. "Lights!" he commanded. He had to squint as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. "What're you all doing in here?!" he addressed the heroes about to attack the lone figure on the floor. 

"We're here to save you!" Superboy declared. He was feeling extremely super at the moment having just rescued his Fearless Leader.

"From what?" They'd just interrupted some much-needed rest, and even without the mask, Tim's glare was pretty fierce.

"Omigawd!" squealed Cassie. "It's so cute!"

Kon slowly picked the animal off the floor. "Uh, um, aw geeze." Embarrassed, he handed it back to Robin. "Sorry."

Bart's amber eyes widened in delight. "Crocky!"

Tim snatched his stuffed doll away from Kon. That wasn't the way you were supposed to hold him. You might hurt him like that. Of course, he didn't voice the thought aloud. He unconsciously cradled Crocky in one arm. "Explain. Now." He was too mad to be worried about being caught sleeping with a stuffed animal.

Red Tornado owned up. "When you didn't answer to their responses, they became concerned and wanted to check on you."

Cassie's eyes narrowed. "What's with this 'they' thing? *You* opened the door."

"Yes, well, I didn't see the need to damage any property. Kon-El was about to break it down," he supplied helpfully.

"Well, I just, well . . . " Kon's hand flailed ineffectually in the air. "You sleep with a doll?" he blurted out.

Robin didn't want to do this now. He needed sleep. "You gotta problem with that?" he growled.

"Naw, man, just, uh . . . g'nite!" The Kid beat a hasty retreat out of the room.

Everyone else left, apologizing profusely. Tim, feeling himself calm down from the misunderstanding, saw them to the door and magnanimously allowed Cassie to pet Crocky. He was about to close it when Bart turned around to take a closer look at the toy.

"You got it autographed? Awesome!"

"Yeah, I did." Tim smiled at his prized possession. "I'll tell you about it sometime. After I get some sleep," he said pointedly.

"Kewl. G'nite, Rob."

"'Nite, Bart."

Tim closed the door behind his last "savior" of the evening and went back to bed, checking to make sure Crocky was undamaged. He decided he'd deal with the fallout after a few more hours of sleep.

He crawled between the cooled sheets and snuggled back into his original position. He hugged Crocky to his chest and went back to sleep.

End.


End file.
